How's the Weather
by Euphonemes
Summary: Share in the experience of Nick and Judy as they see what their lives could be! As the top news team at ZNN, Lead Anchor Judy Hopps and Zootopia's Top Weathermammal Nick Wilde tell the news like it is and have fun while they're doing it. But when a little prank battle goes too far, what will Nick and Judy do? Part of Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps's "What If" collaboration.


**How's the Weather?**

 **Written by Euphonemes**

 **Edited by AngloFalcon**

* * *

Rabbit umbrellas were an interesting contraption. They sloped backward, giving some space for Judy to lay back her ears and keep them dry. As she headed into work at the ZPD headquarters, it rained in sheets, and the loud plops of fat raindrops echoed in her little plastic bubble of dryness.

She tilted her umbrella enough to peek at her partner, following alongside. He had chosen to actually listen to the weathermammal on ZNN today, who had promised 'sunshine as far as the eye could see.' She couldn't stop her giggle at seeing him thoroughly soaked.

"I don't want to hear it, Carrots. Not a word."

She slipped a paw out from her cocoon, wanting to squeeze his, but retracted as the chilly rain pelted her fur. Another, louder laugh was bubbling within her, but the trained police officer knew how to control her emotions. She would save that laugh for later.

The imposing doors of ZPD HQ slid apart, and Nick and Judy were saved from the rain. A wave of accumulated water crashed to the ZPD's lobby floor as Judy fastened her umbrella. Nick shook a bit, probably more of a shiver as he entered the air conditioning. His exposed fur would dry quickly, but his uniform's shirt had turned four shades of blue darker. He would be unpleasantly damp for most of their shift.

Nick was grumbling on the way to their desk. After an overloaded week, the chief had been lax with their scheduling. The generic 'desk duty' permitted Nick and Judy to spend most of the day however they pleased — provided all outstanding paperwork was completed.

They nestled into their chairs before Nick opened up. "I'd _love_ to be wrong almost every day and still have a job."

Judy rolled her eyes while logging into the computer for the day. "If you think it's so easy, Nick, why don't _you_ try being the top weathermammal in Zootopia?"

"Carrots, they couldn't _afford_ me," Nick said with a sly grin. When they had first started spending time together after hours, Judy had foolishly shared that his grin was one of her favorite parts about him. Before then, the grin had popped up often. But now, he took every opportunity to flash it at her. And a part of her loved it every time.

"Well then, how about we find out what you're made of?"

Nick cocked an eyebrow while Judy peered around the station and, seeing every other officer preoccupied, reached into the bottommost drawer of her desk. "I just carried this in the other day so the paperwork wouldn't drive either of us mad." From the drawer arose a boxy black console and two helmets with opaque visors, connected via a series of thick black cords.

Nick pawed at the console. "Ah, yes, the PIXAR Machine. When did you bring it from home...oh, hold that thought." Nick was easily distracted by McHorn passing by with a box of freshly fried doughnuts. While the rhino chatted on the phone, Nick smoothly plucked out a caramel and powdered sugar monstrosity and began munching.

While tangling with the cords, she gave Nick a disapproving headshake. "With an attention span like that, maybe you _would_ make a better weatherman than detective." She let that sink in before continuing. "Brought it here yesterday, but since I figured we'd eventually have a slow day, I left it here for us. Nice and safe in this drawer. I'm surprised you didn't notice my extra bag when leaving the house." Judy added with a smirk worthy of Nick himself.

"Mhmm," was all Nick got out while filling his mouth with delicious doughnut goodness, oblivious to the light-hearted jab.

Judy let her envy at the doughnut, and the peeved feeling of Nick not getting one for her, slide away. "Let's take this thing somewhere and test your weather skills, Mister Wilde."

" _Officer_ Wilde," he said with a few crumbs spilling from his mouth. With one paw clutching the machine, she used the other to practically drag him into a supply closet. And in only a few minutes, the device was powered on and whirring.

She shoved the helmet in his sticky paws and pointed to his head. Wordlessly, he nestled his head in the helmet.

"Let's put you to the test, _Officer_ Wilde."

* * *

"You're looking pretty fine at that desk, Carrots."

Nick's normal morning greeting carried a bit of an edge as he swung over the anchor desk. Having just gone through makeup and wardrobe, ZNN's chief anchor Judy Hopps wanted nothing to mess up her perfect look. Still, she craved Nick's usual peck on her cheek. When he obliged, he came away with a small dot of makeup on his nose.

He wiped at the dot while she giggled. Between the pawing at his face, Nick said, "Hmm, it seems when I'm around you, _everything_ gets painted."

The reason for his tension was obvious: Judy had painted Nick's teeth green three nights ago in the luxury apartment they shared in Sahara Square. Nick typically loved the color green. He sported his favorite green shirt around the newsroom, changing only at the last second into attire that wouldn't vanish with the green screen as he delivered Zootopia's weather report.

While on the air, Judy had barely stopped her laugh in time when Nick flashed a devilish grin that disappeared behind Savannah Central's rain map. She had waited eight excruciating hours, an incredible exercise in patience for the excitable bunny, but the payoff had been tremendous. The video of Nick's disappearing mouth had gone viral in a matter of minutes.

Nick leaned in and whispered, his heavy breath tickling the inside of her long ear. "I have a feeling you'll have a _memorable_ show today." And with a flick of his tail and a whiff of his scent, he headed toward the row of desks that made up the weather station.

The little part of her mind, way in the back where her deepest and most delightful feelings for Nick rested, expected retaliation. Surely, a wily fox like Nicholas Wilde, Zootopia's Most-Watched Meteorologist, would have something up his blue jacket's sleeve. His whispered words stank of a devious plot, and a wary Judy kept her ears up as she prepared for the morning broadcast.

She and Nick had been brought to the station within a week of one another. And in the year that had passed since then, Nick and his silly antics had confounded, baffled, frustrated, and finally won her over. He had asked seven times to take her on an evening out, and when she had finally agreed, he took her for _cricket burgers_. It was a miracle they had lasted this long together.

And yet, as her fox directed other newsmammals to gather information for the weather report, she couldn't help the small smirk that lifted her cheeks. His tail swished gently in the busy newsroom air, and she nearly dropped the printouts of her script as she watched. The shuffling sound of falling papers brought her back to work, and she perused the opening lines of her broadcast.

But it wasn't long until a familiar scent wafted past her twitchy nose, and she felt his snout pressing on her blazer's shoulder pad. "What's in the news today, Carrots?"

With a few shakes of her shoulder, she knocked off his snout. "You and your nose will find out soon enough!"

"Making me _wait_? Oh how you _hurt_ me so," Nick said with fake pain. Being on television required a certain type of personality, a mold Nick fit perfectly. Smooth, calm, collected, with a hint of the theatrical.

Judy wasn't moved. "Then go patch yourself up. _Some_ of us have work to do."

"Oh, but I want _you_ to fix it. Can't you kiss it and make it better?"

His nose started nuzzling into her neck fur, and she had to swat him away, with determination and a smidge of playfulness. She also had to stifle the giggle rising from her ticklishness. "No… _you_ go take care of it. You're a big fox."

With expert precision, Nick brought his tail across Judy's nose. She held back her sneeze at the strands of his fur and her soft gasp at the power of his scent. "Suit yourself. Leave me to my fate, Carrots. Let there be _blood! Blood! And death!_ "

Nick delivered the lines with such gusto that he was actually able to pull Judy away from her news script. She gave him a wicked side-eye. "Oh, come on, I was seven years old. Can't _believe_ I told you that story…."

With a smoothness only Nick could manage, he slid on top of the hallowed news desk and leaned in toward one of Judy's ears. "Hey, you were born to be a star, Carrots. _Embrace_ it."

A soft chime sounded throughout the newsroom: the signal that they would soon go live on the air. Nick had successfully wasted Judy's prep time with distraction. A tiny tremor developed in one of her paws as she shooed him away with the other. "Don't you have clouds to go watch?"

"That's right. And…oh, that one!" He pointed toward his monitor with a webcam view of the studio's exterior. Above the city's magnificent skyline rolled puffy white clouds whose types Judy could never remember. "It looks like…I know, a wounded fox, sad that a bunny wouldn't help him in his time of _great need_."

Part of her was disappointed that she gave into him at that line. Super cheesy, definitely not his best work. Yet, he flashed his maddening grin, and it turned out to be enough. She picked up his paw with excessive delicateness and planted a soft kiss on the back of it. "There. Better?"

Judy knew a bit about Nick's life before his tenure as a weathermammal. When he was younger, he had orchestrated cheap and ridiculous cons to make ends meet. They had depended on incredible composure: one wrong twitch of an eye, and the jig would have been up. The smile he popped after Judy kissed his paw would have blown any of his cons wide open. "Good enough…for now."

While he scurried back to the weather desk, Judy returned to her notes. She read speedily as the start of the broadcast neared. By now, Anchor Judy Hopps had dozens of newscasts under her wide and fashionable belt. But she still had to swallow a bit of nervousness before going on the air. Her notes review was part of her process to relax, but recently, Nick's behavior had made that part much tougher.

One eye wandered over to Nick, and she half-watched his preparation "routine." The doughnut he had left there last night was back in his paw, and he gnawed on it while spinning around in his desk chair. His staffers put together the maps, the temperature readouts, all the information that Zootopians would care about when they walked out the door in the morning. Really, all he had to do was stand at the screen, point at invisible numbers, and make it interesting. And if Nicholas Wilde had any talent in this world, it was making things interesting.

The studio's outer doors opened with a groan and in strode their producer, Peter Moosebridge. He had been an anchor at ZNN too, before Judy succeeded him. Moosebridge had grown restless in retirement, and ZNN had been all too eager to bring him back on board to manage production. After four months with him, Judy had found she enjoyed his semi-serious style off-camera. He didn't work much with Nick, and while they seemed pleasant together, Nick's deeper feelings about the moose were still a mystery to her.

"Hey, Pete!" Nick shouted from across the room, too entranced by his doughnut or too dizzy to get out of his spinning chair.

Moosebridge offered a curt wave to the fox before he swung his lumbering frame around the desk and peered over Judy's shoulder. His antlers cast a shadow that coated Judy. Moments like these reminded her just how large her fellow Zootopians could be. "ZPD just made an arrest on that wallet snatching thing."

For three weeks, no wallet in Zootopia had been safe from a mysterious pickpocket. Even Moosebridge's had been stolen away from his rather large pants pocket. Judy perked up, scrunching the corners of her notes. "Oh?"

"Indeed. A career criminal. Duke Weaselton. The team is tracking down his most recent mugshot. We're gonna bump this to the opening segment."

Perhaps she imagined it, but Judy could swear that behind Moosebridge, Nick smirked at Weaselton's name. She made a note to ask about that later, when they had some more _personal_ time together. "Okay, I can do that, sir."

"When will you just call me Pete? I _am_ getting tired of asking, you know."

Judy had grown up watching Peter Moosebridge deliver the news. Seated in front of the Hopps family television, vying for space between a few dozen older siblings, Judy had stared wide-eyes at the moose as he shared the events in the great big city of Zootopia. And now here she sat, with Moosebridge himself over her shoulder. To call him something as simple as "Pete" seemed wrong on a deep level.

"Maybe next time, sir," Judy said with a chuckle as she returned to her notes. Moosebridge's amused snort spread over the nape of her neck before he headed back to his well-worn spot in the production booth. The typical tiny whine sounded in her ear once her producer activated the earpiece.

"Check one, two, Judy."

"Copy, sir," she said delicately. When the show went live, Moosebridge usually sat back and let Judy do her thing. Most of his chatter kept her on time; she had a habit of running long in interesting interviews. Judy rather enjoyed the radio and the feel of the piece in her ear.

"Excellent. Okay, Lead Anchor, we're going on in thirty seconds. Get set."

She nodded and set aside her notes. After a lot of practice, Judy had mastered the art of her posture. In a snap, she could sit up straight, planting her clasped paws on the desk, and sport her award-winning smile. Every morning, she could make a first impression on someone new in Zootopia. And she intended to make each one memorable.

The morning news music swelled throughout the newsroom as various staffing mammals took their places. Judy peeked over at Nick, who was wearing the slyest grin as he eyed her. She remembered his words from earlier and had to squeeze her paw to stop the slight tremor. _Something_ lurked behind those pretty eyes of his, and Judy wanted to be ready.

"Knock 'em dead, Carrots," Nick whispered his customary wish for good luck. Judy would wink in response before Nick tugged on the sleeves of his blue jacket and took his place in front of the green screen. The weather report always fell after top stories — mammals could set their watches to it. Between Judy and Nick's reports, those first fifteen minutes were the most-watched television program in Zootopia.

"Five seconds…four…three…." The background lights dimmed and the sounds faded away. Judy adjusted her smile as the stage lights flared to life and shone across the ZNN desk. She spared her fox a final glance, and she nabbed the glimmer reflecting off his shiny white teeth. Judy had a feeling she would soon discover what that grin meant, but for now, it was her, the camera, and all of Zootopia, ready to begin the day with her.

"Good morning! I am Judy Hopps, and this is ZNN."

While the introduction played for the viewers at home, Moosebridge chatted in Judy's ear. "Looks like the Weaselton story will run long, so after that and the update on the road construction projects, we'll go right to Nick for the weather."

She nodded and then straightened herself for the end of the musical intro. She thought she heard Nick whispering something, but the break ended before she could address him.

"Our top story today…" she said before delivering the report on Weaselton. The details were still coming into the studio, so she filled time with some of Weaselton's background: petty theft, larceny, bootlegging movies, all kinds of petulant little crimes. Nick's smirk was starting to make more sense to her.

A field reporter was standing by at the courthouse, and Judy smoothly turned it over to her. Moosebridge stayed silent during the two minute break, but another sound murmured near Judy. Withholding a groan, she turned to discover that Nick was whispering at her.

"Carrots… _Carrots_ …" he said while he cupped his paw around his snout.

" _What_?" she whispered back harshly, though that only made the fox smile.

"Do you want to get a cricket burger after this?"

She managed not to gag, letting it pop out of her as a weird hiccup instead. She had a stomach battle-hardened by all manner of odd carrot dishes, but the thought of those gross patties always brought bile up her throat. She had told Nick as much when he bought her one those many days ago. That had been her mistake.

While Nick snickered at her reaction, Moosebridge spoke in her ear, his tone laced with concern. "Judy? Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, fine, sir," she said with surprising difficulty. She took a long swig of water from the glass positioned off to the side of the desk while firing off a withering glare toward her fox. He laughed while he fiddled with one of the buttons on his jacket.

"Okay then. We're coming back from the field, so get set."

Moosebridge wouldn't need to say it twice. "Of course, sir."

An exasperated sigh poured through her earpiece. "For the love of…just Pete. _Please_ , Judy."

She allowed herself a quick smirk before nodding. "Certainly…Pete." It didn't taste right on her tongue, and she hoped he would forget about this request tomorrow. "Sir" was definitely more pleasant.

The camera trained back onto Judy, and she finished out the Weaselton report and breezed through the segment on road construction. Her producer had been right about their timing. Fortunately, Nick looked as ready as ever to do his thing. Despite his silliness, a special glint in his eye would appear when it came time for the weather report. He had a passion for it that Judy really enjoyed. She had to focus to keep her tail from wiggling when Nick was so totally prepared.

Moosebridge gave her the signal, and like dozens of times before, she gave the show to her fox. "And now, to ZNN's Chief Meteorologist, Nick Wilde. Nick?"

His usual sly grin vanished behind a determined and concentrated look. His smooth and controlled voice would pull viewers in with ease. "Thank you, Judy. Okay, folks, let's get right into it."

Today's weather report was mostly uneventful: rain in the Rainforest District, snow in Tundratown, sun in Sahara Square. A few clouds were encroaching upon Savannah Central's pristine blue sky, but Nick assured the public the fluffy cumulus clouds would disperse by midday. Temperature readouts flashed up on the heat map, and Nick guided his paw around the city and then the bordering areas. Bunnyburrow could expect a light thunderstorm, which Judy knew to be perfect timing for the carrot harvest.

Judy had to be careful not to stare at her fox. His tail swished as he talked, and Judy could easily fall into a deep trance if she watched the strands of fur shift and sway for too long. Despite the childishness Nick often showed, he had his moments where he could be impressive. She let herself imagine what life would be like if she and Nick were more serious, a small glimmer of wonder if a future lay in that. Under the stage lights, her warming fur started to show as she envisioned what Nick and Judy could be.

His report was always friendly and warm, but right to the point. That made it fast. Judy stayed aware enough to notice he was wrapping up. Breaking from the pleasant daydream, she straightened in her chair, ready to take back control from Nick. Moosebridge was already telling her about the next three stories in line. She was so engrossed in preparation with her producer that she nearly missed Nick's final addition.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Nick said with a laugh. Once Judy heard it, her blood chilled. But, it was too late to do anything. Nick grinned while he spoke. "This morning, we have one last _special_ segment of our report."

Although the screen behind him stayed green, the weather map on TV went dark. Judy's throat dried as Nick's widening grin looked like it might tear his head in half. Her suspicion welled in her chest, but she couldn't move. Trapped in her chair by her own heavy body, she could only watch as Nick laid out his revenge.

"Here at ZNN, we take our duties very seriously. After all, it's _your_ news." He started pacing thoughtfully in front of the screen, which drove Judy even crazier. "But, every so often, we have a little fun and explore some of our… _hobbies_. And did you all know that our esteemed rabbit anchor is quite the actress?"

He flicked his wrist and, as if on cue, grainy sound filled the newsroom. Judy's time in the news world had taught her that the sound was the scratchy noise of a cheap microphone, like one found on the end of a camcorder. While the sound quality wasn't stellar, she could pick out some words, spoken in a high tone. A little screechy, like…children's voices.

Her blood froze. She thought her iced veins might crunch when she slowly turned toward the nearest monitor. Gone were the rain maps and temperature readouts the Zootopians relied upon every day. In its place was a low-quality video from an era long past. The lines squeaked out of the speakers.

"Fear, treachery, blood lust. Thousands of years ago, these were the forces that ruled our world."

Every strand of fur on Judy's body wanted to flee. But dozens of newscasts had trained her well. She maintained her poise, even as every instinct told her to run…or to pummel Nick.

"A world where prey were scared of predators. And predators had an uncontrollable, biological urge to maim and maul, and..."

She allowed herself to slip out of her composure and bury her face in her paws as Nick's favorite line blared.

"Blood! Blood! And _death_!"

The ketchup erupted from her tiny body on camera, and her tongue lolled from her mouth, before the video switched off. The glass walls of the production booth were thick, but they couldn't hold back the raucous laughter. Even Moosebridge cracked a cheeky grin before corralling the studio hands and putting them back to work.

Nick beamed with satisfaction as the video wrapped and he finally, mercifully, closed his segment. "A fine performance, indeed. Now then, back to you, Judy."

Judy Hopps was a professional. Even when the news got weird — or the mammals who told the news acted strange — she would keep her class and dignity. After Nick's addition, she about hit her limit. Her fox grinned and swished his tail with such happiness, and it was beyond difficult to hold back the _many_ thoughts she wanted to share.

But, it was her job. "Well, seven-year-old me wanted to be a lot of things! It was a fun hobby, but I sure do enjoy being here at this desk."

Nick looked like he wanted to say something else, but he wasn't going to get the chance. She immediately rolled on. "And at this desk, we do the news. So let's get back to it. The mayor today commented on the growing graffiti troubles that plague Sahara Square…."

Moosebridge guided her through a few more stories and the two or three "interest pieces" that ate up the rest of the broadcast. Normally, Nick would go sit down and twiddle away on his phone while Judy wrapped. Today, though, he just stood around backstage, perhaps too pleased with himself to sit and relax. Little puffs of his scent would float past her while she finished her stories, but she kept her nose from twitching. It took a _lot_ more effort to ignore Nick before the outro music played and the camera switched off.

The moment they went off the air, she flew from her chair. She must have made record time in clearing the distance of the newsroom. Nick still had his giant grin, still gleaming under the stage lights. Undeniably disarming, but it would not dissuade Judy now.

"Y'know, Carrots, I think you had a future on the stage. Your prop work was _excellent_."

Her glare could have melted the steel of her ZNN desk. "Put that _grin_ away."

"Oh, this one?" His grin brightened. "The one you painted green? I mean, that was funny. But now I wonder whose video will have a higher view count."

For a passing moment, her anger cooled. "What do you mean?"

Though she visibly seethed, Nick moved closer to her. "You think _I_ was the first to share that video? How adorable." His paw tapped her right on the tip of her crinkled nose, a dangerous move with her in this state. "You know it's been online for _years_ , right?"

Still trying to hide his smile, Moosebridge was on his way over to her. But she intended to solve this first. As the crew shuffled around to prepare for the next newscast, she nabbed Nick by his paw and pulled him aside. With her other paw, she opened her phone and typed in the proper keywords. Up popped the original video, its view count climbing exponentially.

And Nick was not the original poster. She squeezed his paw tightly, mostly out of anger but with a little bit of relief intruding. Judy almost let herself smile, but a quick peek at his cheeky grin kept her scowl firmly planted on her face. She looked down at her phone and dug into the poster's profile, breathing heavily as she hunted for the mammal who would soon earn her wrath. And with a few more taps, she found his profile picture: two long ears and the top of his head, with the telltale cap planted firmly between them.

Her producer's shadow was sneaking up when the look of horror seized her. For the first time in a very long time, Anchor Judy Hopps was stunned into silence.

And she could feel Nick's words dripping down her shoulder as his snout poked forward. "Looks like Papa wanted to make his little girl a star."

* * *

As the whirring of the PIXAR Machine slowed, Judy ripped off her helmet and stared down Nick.

"You really think my dad would post that video online?"

He chuckled while removing his helmet. "I figured he already has. Even if by accident. No offence, Carrots, but he doesn't seem the most comfortable around this new-fangled technology business."

No part of her was willing to argue against that. She quickly unplugged and packed up the machine. In reality, she had enjoyed watching Nick portray a weathermammal. He seemed comfortable doing it...and something about those whiffs of scent seemed very real. Naturally, she couldn't tell Nick he passed this test, not right away.

As they exited the closet and walked back to the desk, Nick kept munching on the latter half of his doughnut. Little flakes of powdered sugar were trailing him, a clue for any of the other detectives in the building to follow back to them. Once they reached the desk, she stowed the machine in the drawer and wiggled her way back into her chair.

Resuming their work, Judy decided to needle Nick. "So, not so eager to be a weathermammal now, I'll bet."

Nick dropped the last smidge of doughnut on their desk and turned his attention to his wet shirt. "Oh, yeah, weather reporting is _tough_ work," Nick said as he wrung out his shirt, still incredibly soaked even after their time in the machine. "Though it's hard to get the job done with such a _fine_ distraction sitting at that desk."

Judy smirked, eager to play with Nick a bit. "You mean your doughnut?"

He picked up and popped the last delicious morsel in his mouth while Judy frowned. "Exactly." He leaned in and gave her a light peck, right on the tip of her nose. And when he came away, he left behind a small dot of powdered sugar. Judy crossed her eyes while pawing at her nose to try to clean it off.

"Not as good as makeup, but that'll have to do."

* * *

 **[A/N]**

 **Hey, Euphonemes here. Cimar pulled me out of hiatus for this project, and I'm glad he did :).**

 **When I was a kid, I dreamed of being a weatherman. Going on camera, talking about something I love, it sounded cool. I took a different path in life, but it was fun to relive that feeling through Nick. And it seems he ain't half bad at it either ;)**

 **Thanks for reading this little tale, and for supporting everyone involved in this outstanding project!**


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